


The Harvest Moon

by elecktera



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan is actually just really smitten, I was actually really sad writing this I hope that doesn't peek through too much, John must be protected at all costs, M/M, Protective Arthur Morgan, Soft Arthur Morgan, Young John Marston, Younger Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25568083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elecktera/pseuds/elecktera
Summary: Shared, quiet moments were rare.The soft, intimate ones were even rarer. The times where they didn’t have to be outlaws or Dutch’s boys.The times when their soft touches said more than they ever could to each other.The ones where they could just be - John and Arthur, Arthur and John.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	The Harvest Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Short little drabble inspired by a close friends suggestion :)

Shared, quiet moments were rare. The soft, intimate ones were even rarer. The times where they didn’t have to be outlaws or Dutch’s boys. The times when their soft touches said more than they ever could to each other. The ones where they could just _be_ \- John and Arthur, Arthur and John. 

It was just beginning to inch on summer, the New Austin air still moist from the rains winter and spring had brought with them, but the sun still remained a steady warmth throughout the day. 

Things had been slow around the Van Der Linde camp lately. They’d been lying low near Thieves Landing after a particularly large score that had garnered them some attention from the local police force. But right now, things were- well they were _good_. 

Arthur and John lay together in a golden field; John’s head tucked under Arthur’s chin, his hand hiked up Arthur’s shirt, palm flat against his stomach. Arthur’s hand caressing the back of John’s head, his hand running through jet black hair feeling for knots and tenderly pulling them loose. John’s eyes drifting shut under the attention, Arthur smiling softly at the boy wrapped against his side, occasionally leaning down to place a syrupy, featherlight kiss on his forehead. 

“Wonder what would happen if we just _stayed_ ,” John sighed, his eyes still shut.

Arthur’s eyebrows pinched together, “Here? This Field?”

John hummed noncommittally, his eyes fluttering open to peer up at the older, “No- Maybe, dunno,” huffing in frustration, “Just mean- maybe we build a home together, could be here, but I’d go anywhere with you, Art. I’ve never-” he stopped himself short, his hand moving to Arthur’s sternum, deft fingers making patterns in his skin. 

Arthur frowned, “And what? Leave the gang? Wh‘bout Hosea, hm? _Dutch_?” The hand that had been cradling John’s head moved to his face, a large thumb brushing over the boy’s cheekbone. Adjusting them both to face each other. 

John averted his eyes, “ _No,_ I mean maybe they build homes too, take up some real honest work.”

Arthur chuckled, but not unkindly, “This group? Honest? Naw… You think ol’ Dutch is ready to settle down and take up _honest work_?” 

And even with glassy eyes John still smiled at that, probably imagining a much more docile Dutch. Arthur’s fingers swept down to John’s chin, forcing the younger man to look at him, “Hey now, Johnny,” John’s eyelashes now clumpy with tears, “Maybe not now, but... One day, yeah? Anywhere you want. You’n’me, big farm, horses, chickens, cows, _anything_ ,” Because Arthur would do anything for John. 

John, with his wide, hazel eyes, looked at Arthur so trustingly, so warmly, Arthur thought he might die, “You promise?” 

  
And Arthur _melted,_ “Yeah, Johnny. Promise.” And sealed it with a kiss. Warm and safe and _home_. 


End file.
